HIGHER CALLING

A mid-afternoon Tuesday in late August in a southern part of the northern hemisphere is a peculiar time to be shivering uncontrollably in a steaming-hot shower. Except I was in Alpe d’Huez, the ski station of Tour de France renown, close to 2,000m above sea level, having just come in from one of those filthy Alpine storms that can transform temperatures in a moment.

This was the end of the third stage of seven on the Haute Route, a cycling event forged in the mountains of Europe that, in the 10 years since its 2011 debut, has established itself as one of the world’s must-do rides for cyclists.

As we approached the final climb to Alpe d’Huez, the lesser-known back door of the Col de Sarenne, the rain had closed in on us, but not yet to the extent that it soon would.

At this point a fellow racer even